Page 7 of The Demon of the Wood

She had washed her nicer dress earlier, and she pulled it on, smoothing the beige fabric of it, hoping it didn’t show how bony her curves were, or how muscular her arms were. Mr. Collie had made a comment last time about her not getting enough to eat and how he would talk to George about it. Melina had been nervous for weeks, waiting for her uncle to hit her for her impertinence.

She had a scrap of a mirror, a broken piece she had saved, sitting in the corner and she bent down, braiding her brown hair in a crown on her head. She grinned back at her reflection. Sallowness shaded her skin and sleep lined her eyes, but they shone from her excitement. She would wait one more hour while her uncle and cousins drank in the parlor, then she’d sneak out.

The time ticked down, and when she heard their bawdy laughter, she tiptoed out of the basement. Glancing to the parlor as she came to the door, she saw them all sitting by the large fire, laughing, and drinking, paying no mind to anything else. She would have several hours to be out as she knew they often fell asleep in there after drinking, then made their way up to their rooms. As long as she was back before morning, which, of course she would, everything would be fine.

Hugging her wool cloak around her shoulders in the night air, she started the trek to the tavern. It was not a long walk, though odd sounds in the forest made her shiver and walk to the far edge of the road away from the tree line. A twig cracked, and she whipped her head to the forest, pulse racing. Thoughts of the demon in the wood filled her head. Terrible imaginings of his horrible visage. There was a drawing in the market square of one. It had gnarled horns that curved about its head, jagged and cracked. Its nose was only two slits in the middle of its face, mouth snarled and fangs showing. Horrible bat wings stretched behind it, and its hands ended in sharp claws. She stared warily at the shadows of the forest, her breath coming out in quick puffs in front of her.

She stayed on the road, hurrying her steps until she saw the light of the tavern and heard the music of a lyre floating outside. Butterflies filled her stomach, and her head swam from the possibilities that waited for her through that door. She walked in, the place crowded, many of the men she passed by looking at her curiously. She stared at their faces as she passed to find Gregory.

Finally, she spotted him, with a group of four other men, sitting at a corner table. He perked up when he saw her, waving her over, and she almost fainted from happiness at the sight. She certainly felt lightheaded, though that could be from hunger. She weaved around the other tables and slid into the booth next to him. He placed an arm over her shoulders, making her heart race from the contact.

He leaned down, his lips giving the barest brush against her ear as he murmured, “You look beautiful.”

She gazed bashfully at her hands. He gave a gentle squeeze of her arm, then ordered a pint of mead for her. She eyed the golden liquid warily as the server set it before her. She had never drunk alcohol before, but she’d seen her uncle and cousins, how their faces became ruddy and their eyes glassy, how it loosened their tongues, and they said things not fit to be said.

Gregory pushed the liquid closer to her. “Drink up.”

He flashed her that grin, so she grabbed the pint and took a sip. Gregory chuckled.

“Come now, drink faster than that if you want to catch up.”

She laughed uncomfortably but was afraid of disappointing him, so she took a bigger drink. Gregory and his friends cheered, taking their own drinks, and resumed talking. She listened as they spoke of their work, of their conquests with women—often glancing at her and laughing at her flushing cheeks—and then of the demon in the wood.

“We need a Hunters Guild,” the man with a big black beard said.

Gregory’s arm tightened absentmindedly on Melina’s shoulder, then slipped around her waist, his fingers tightening about her hip, sending a bolt through her. Fear or desire, she didn’t know, only that she felt she shouldn’t move and should hold her breath.

“Are you afraid of a lone demon, Charles?” Gregory asked, scoffing. “We could take him on easily.”

Charles shook his head. “Maybeyouaren’t afraid, Gregory, but the rest of us have a bit too much common sense to attempt it.”

Gregory only snickered and took another drink as the subject changed. His hand gripped her waist, tugging her close against his side, her hand resting on his chest. The other men watched the movement over their mugs, their eyes holding that same dark and hungry look she’d seen in Gregory, and her heart thumped too rapidly.

The alcohol already twisted her senses, her mind swirling from all the sensations around her. He gazed down at her approvingly, his hands slipping to her thigh, shifting high and seizing her skin so close to her intimate parts that she stilled completely. But his eyes stayed on her, clearly pleased. That was a good thing… wasn’t it? She didn’t want to displease him. She wanted him to like her, but also, she remembered how her uncle or cousins hit her when they were displeased. Gregory wouldn’t do that, would he? She ignored the tension building in her. The night wore on and she tapped her foot to the music as Gregory kept buying her drinks.

“I think I’ve had more than any of you,” she said, as he gave her another one.

“You’re here to have fun, Melina. You want to have fun, don’t you?”

Irritation lined his features, and her heart sank, so she smiled and nodded her head, taking another drink.

“That’s a good girl,” he said, squeezing her thigh so tight it hurt.

The owner of the tavern called out to finish up their drinks and began shutting the place down. Gregory took her by the arm gallantly and led her out of the tavern and into the streets, winding up the path.

“We’ll make sure you get home safe,” he said.

She smiled stupidly, leaning on his arm to not trip over the cobblestone steps. A deeper chill than before had settled over the night air, and she shivered. They wended through the village and up to the forest road that would lead to her house, only it was the long way through the forest.

“We should go the other way,” she said, taking a step back and tugging on her arm to free it, but he tightened his grip and pulled her further along, his friends crowding behind him, singing a lewd bar song.

“This is a prettier route, and I want to spend more time with you,” he said. “Your uncle won’t let us talk during the day, anyway.”

Her stomach dropped, her mind moving faster and fear colliding within her. But it was fine, she assured herself.

He wants to spend more time with me. That’s all.

She glanced over her shoulder at his friends, all of them staring at her in a way that made her feel like a deer caught by a wolf. She turned back, leaning into Gregory more, counting down the minutes until she was home. The moon was full and shone on the forest pathway, the sounds of the night making a pretty symphony. Gregory suddenly stopped, pulling her over to the side and pressing her against a tree.

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